How It All Began
by UniqueInsanity
Summary: They knew each other before Las Vegas, before San Francisco, but how? How does their first meeting impact upon their relationship in the future? R&R. -xx
1. Chapter 1

**How it All Began**

**A/N:** I have taken on a complete obsession with Jorja Fox, CSI and GSR. What is the result? A lot of fic's and not a lot of study! This is one I have been kind of toying with for a while, one that I have wanted to write, but have never got around to doing so.

Until now, of course. I'm planning this to be about, ten chapters, possibly a lot more, depending on how you all like it (:

Hope you enjoy!

-xx

_**xxx**_

The screaming in her home was something Sara was used to. She thought it to be normal, she had witnessed it for so long.

It seemed everyday, her Father would come home drunk, and begin a fight with her Mother.

Usually the twelve year old would slip away into her room, focus on her homework.

That was what she was doing tonight, sitting in her small room, with the dim light, flickring every now and then, stooped over her math book. She liked math. She had a way with numbers, one that she noticed very few others had.

She wrote away, well ahead of her class assignment.

The shouting was just background noise to her, she had learnt over the many years on how to block out anything she didn't want to hear, feel or see. It was something she was almost proud of.

Her small desk was cluttered, covered with books and papers. Apart from that, everything else in her room was immaculate. Her bed was meticiously made, not a shred of clothing was strewn across the floor, all folded neatly away or hanging up in her wardrobe. She didn't have much to make a mess with, clothes and books was about the extent of her possessions.

Sara Sidle was not your typical twelve year-old girl.

As she finished off the last problem, a small smile crossed her lips, knowing she had gotten the right answer. She had been tackling algebra, even though her class had not even so much glanced at it, but she wanted to know as much as she could about everything.

Her studies had been her way of escapism. Her mother had always sent her to her room when he Father would come back, her attempt of keeping her from his violent path. It only worked for so long. Sara had recieved her fair share of bruises, broken bones. She never had any friends over, the few that she did have. She didn't want them to be possible victims of her fathers fist.

Most of the time, it was just her and her older brother, David, not that he spent much time at home. Sara envied that about him, he had the freedom of age to go out and do as he wanted, because he was eighteen, for her on the other hand, she had to stay where she was told. She wasn't one for rebellion, for breaking rules. She could come up with other things to occupy herself with.

She jumped, startled by the sound of something shattering. She sat up straight, closing over the book she had buried herself in. She could imagine exactly what happened. Her Mother said something her Father didn't want to hear, and so he made her listen, by smashing something. Possibly the ceramic vase her grandmother had given to her mother.

It was times like these when she wished she could do as she pleased. It was for that reason, she spent so long doing homework, and extra studies, forever with her head in a book. She knew you couldn't get anywhere in life without an education. She wanted to get somewhere, anywhere. Somewhere away from here. There was nothing here that gave her a sense of happiness.

She knew she had to work hard for that, and she was going to.

She stood up from the small desk chair she was suprised she had been granted, stretching out her long legs. She had always been tall for her age, a point her class mates had picked up on, and made her very aware of. She wouldn't exactly say she was beign bullied, she didn't really allow herself to care much as to what they had to say.

She crossed the small room, what David had christened as the boxroom, over to the one window, next to her single bed. She parted the blinds slightly so she could take a glimpse into the neighbourhood below.

She lived in a small, two-story house, with barely a scrap of room for a garden. The sky was streaked with a mix of shades of blue and purple. She had always liked looking at the sky, it was fascinating to her. She brushed her dark curls from her face, tucking them behind her ear. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the dusty glass of her window. Pale, curly hair, with a gap between her teeth.

She sighed, looking down into the neighbourhood. Apart from one mother ushering her two young children into the house, the street was empty. Everyone seemed to disappear when the darkness came.

A loud thud brought Sara's attention from her neighbourhood, to her own home. It was a situation she did not like to think about often, but the thud unnerved her a little. What unnerved her the most, was the errie silence that crept over the house once it had finished ringing in her ears.

Silence was something she wasn't used to in this home, especially when her Father was at home.

She was unsure for how long she stood, rooted to that spot, listening, waiting for anything. she heard the odd creaking of the floorboards, as if they were being paced, but she heard nothing else. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to go down to the living room and check.

How long had passed now, it seemed a little darker in her room, could it only be minutes?

Her door creaked open, allowing a little more light to filter into the room. Sara's face dropped when she seen her Mother standing in the doorway. Was she hurt? "Mom-" she began, but the older brunette stopped her.

"Sara, sweetie, are you okay?" She asked, seeming a little distant, as if she were just after waking up.

Sara nodded, "Yes, I am but-"

"It's okay, we're okay now. You won't have to hurt ever again." The woman whispered as she crossed the room, taking her daughter in her arms, holding her tight against her chest.

Sara stood limp, not sure what to do. She could feel her mothers tears on her skin, and a sticky liquid soaking into her shirt. Her voice was strained as she whispered against her mothers chest, "You're covered in blood."

_**xxx**_

"This shouldn't take long. A mother, Laura Sidle, kills her abusive, alcoholic husband. She claimed she did it to protect her twelve year-old daughter and eighteen year-old son. Apparently he liked to use them as a punch bag too." The officer told the twenty eight year-old level three CSI.

Gilbert Grissom strolled under the yellow crime scene tape, his forensics jacket drawn tight around his body. Grissom arched an eyebrow and looked at his supervisor, Craig Elliot, who had accompanied him on this case, as if to ask what he thought on the officers words.

He shrugged his shoulders softly, inclining his salt and pepper coloured head towards the doorway where a young brunette girl sat on the steps, an officer beside her, not making any attempt to comfort the obviouslt distraught young girl.

"Daughter?" Grissom asked the officer, who nodded.

"She hasn't said anything since we arrived here. She is covered in blood, could be from her father or mother, or both. There is plenty of it inside. I had to send Lewis out, he threw up all outside. I hope you guys have strong stomachs." He said as the came to a stop just feet away from her.

Craig nodded, looking to the young girl who was watching them carefully, he offered her a soft smile, unable to keep the sympathy from his expression. He had seen so many cases like this one in his years.

The women did everything they could to protect their family, from the one person who should be protecting them more than anyone else. One day, it all becomes too much for them, and they snap.

"The suspect is still inside, she's being questioned by Detectve Felder. He's almost done." The younger officer said to the two CSI's.

"Okay, Gil, I'll take the inside, you take the girl, collect her clothes, see if she knows anything, and then meet me inside." Criag said before he slipped inside.

Grissom would admit, he was a little thankful he got to stay outside in the fresh air for just a few moments more.

Grissom made his way to the young girl, who was clutching her legs tight to her chest. He watched her for just a moment, contemplating best on how to approach this. She was a young girl, who may have seen her Father murdered by her Mother. He needed to have some tact.

"You're not a cop." She spoke before he did, catching him a little off guard.

A small smile came to his lips, she was observant. Most people, grown adults wouldn't deduce that fact. "You're right, I'm a scientist."

"What are you here to do?" She asked, tearing her eyes away from the spot she had been fixated upon, to meet Grissom's eyes.

"Well, I'm here to collect any evidence that is inside your house."

Sara nodded slowly, looking away from him again. Where was David?

"What's your name, honey?" He asked gently, trying to put her at ease.

"I'm Sara."

"Sara, that's a lovely name. My name is Gilbert."

"I like your name too. It's the name of one of my favourite characters, Gilbert Blythe from Ann-"

"Anne of Green Gables." Grissom finished for her, seeing a small smile spread on her lips as he did so.

She nodded, "Yes, that's the one. I never met anyone else who liked those books."

"I haven't met anyone else, either." He said with a soft smile. "Do you like reading, Sara?"

"I do it all the time. I used to get books from the school library. Dad always said it was a waste of time." She concluded sadly.

Grissom gave a small sigh. She reminded him slightly of him when he was her age. "On the contrary, reading is an amazing thing to do."

Sara said nothing, only nodding in agreement. it was her escape, but she doubted even now she could manage to escape from this.

"Sara, I doubt you want to stay in those clothes. Do you want me to go get some clothes for you from your room, and let you get changed? I could get a few books for you from your room, if you want too."

Sara turned her head to look at him, nodding slowly. "I'd like that, thank you."

Just then, the front door of the house swung open, and out came Laura, handcuffed, escorted by Detective Felder.

Sara's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't move. Laura's eyes found her daughter straight away, and she called out to her. "Sara! Sara, sweetie! Tell them I did it to protect us, tell them Sara!"

Felder dragged her away, despite how she kicked and screamed, getting more and more frustrated that Sara wasn't saying anything. "Sara! I did this for you! Don't let them take me away!"

Sara couldn't being herself to look at her mother, and Grissom saw how she wiped away a lone tear that rolled down her cheek, but Grissom didn't let on that he knew.

Once Laura was gone, Sara pushed herself to her feet. "Can I go up with you, to get my things?" She asked, needing to walk, even for just a moment.

Grissom stalled for a moment, a little hesitant with bringing her back inside the home. Was it what was best for her? To bring her back through the home that had to hold such a bad memory for her?

There was a look in her eyes, that made it impossible for him to say no. "Okay, but we have to be quick, and make sure you follow my exact footsteps."

Sara nodded, and as Grissom walked inside, she was close on his heels. the first thing that hit him, was the smell of blood in the air. It was almost tangable. He could understand how the younger cop had been unable to stop himself from throwing up earlier.

Inside the hallway, he could hear the mutterings of his supervisor as he turned to Sara, silently asking in what direction should he be moving. She nodded in the direction of the stairs straight ahead. Grissom walked up the stairs, very carefully, and Sara was extremely careful to follow in his footsteps.

There was only one door on the landing that was open, and Grissom knew instantly it was Sara's.

He stepped inside, taking in the near empty room, the books that littered the desk. She was reminding him more and more of himself every moment.

"Can I get a few of my things?" She asked tentatively, to which Grissom just nodded.

Sara picked up her school bag, packing her school books inside the bag.

"Do you like school, Sara?" He asked, an attempt at conversation.

Sara gave a soft shrug of her shoulders. "I think it's okay. I like the classes."

"What's your favourite?"

"Science." She said, meeting his eyes, bringing a soft smile to his lips. He wasn't suprised.

He watched her as she began taking a few more off of the shelves that covered the wall over her bed. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and blanched, it possible, becomming even paler than she had been before.

She needed to get out of the clothes she was wearing. Now. She felt sick. She had caught a glimpse of the living room on the way up here. Blood covered every inch of the wall, the floor. And her.

She pulled out her drawer, taking out a pair of worn jeans and a jumper. She looked to Grissom, silently asking if she could go into the bathroom and change. He did a quick check of the bathroom, to make sure there was no evidence, and then allowed her to step in, while he waited outside.

Minutes later when she emerged, he took her blood covered clothes from her and placed them in the brown evidence collection bag he had brought up with him.

Sara walked back into her room, and packed her school bag with a few more items of clothing, before swinging it over her shoulder.

"There is a woman here who would like to talk to you, Sara." Grissom said softly to the girl. He would never usually spend such time with anyone like this, from a crime scene, but there was something about this girl.

"I know I'm going into Foster Care." Sara said, impartially, as if she did not mind, yet the look on her face said otherwise.

He felt his heart tugging a little, and he avoided answering her. "You ready?" He asked, and once she nodded, he lead her back down the stairs slowly, taking her outside straight away.

Immediately, they were faced with a tall, blonde woman who had a soft smile on her lips. "Hi, Sara. My name is Madeline. I'm going to take you to another home for the night." She said with a sweet voice, holding her hand out to her.

Sara said nothing, turning to look at Grissom. "I don't want to be on my own." She whispered softly to him.

He took a deep breath, unsure as to what to say. "How about, I come and see you tomorrow, once you go and get a good night's sleep, eh?" He offered after a few moments.

"I'd like that." She said quietly.

After a few moments more of discussion, Sara finally took Madeline's hand. Once she got a grip of it, she felt that she couldn't let go.

The last thing she seen of her home before she left, was Grissom, watching her still as she went.

_**xxx**_

**A/N:** So, how am I doing with this? Have I got your interest, or do you need more?

Please, let me know (: Click the wee blue button to review, and make one very happy Rach (:

Hope you all enjoyed!

-xx


	2. Chapter 2

**How It All Began: Chapter 2**

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for the reviews, I'm glad to know I've gotten your attention.

Hope you all enjoy.

-xx

_**xxx**_

Sara would document that night as possibly the worst night in her life. For the obvious reason, her Father was dead, and her Mother was going to be charged with murder.

The caring woman who had taken her into foster care, her name began with M, she was sure, had tried to persuade her that it was all going to be okay.

Sara was a smart child. She knew it was not going to be alright. Pretending last night, as if she was not listening, she was actually listening intently to every word that was exchanged between the two cops that had stood outside the house.

Even though she may have been doing it in self defence, if she had only stabbed him once, maybe the judge wouldn't be so hard on her, but she stabbed him over twelve times. Sara shuddered at the thought.

She had been dropped off into the nearest available foster home for the night, and possibly the next few days until the courts decided what to do with her. Seeing as she had a brother, who was technically an adult, she may not have to go into Foster Care. She wasn't hopeful. She doubted her brother would be capable of looking after her, and she doubted that any court would see it that way either.

Maggie Claire was the name of the Foster woman who had been trusted with her care. Sara could see why. She was a caring woman, who seemed to really love kids. Sara wasn't the only Foster child she had. Maggie and her husband, Edward, were incapable of having children, so they decided to foster instead.

They had three other foster children, one seventeen year old boy, a ten year old girl, and a two month old baby.

Sara hadn't met any of them, Maggie had told her as she escorted her to the bedroom she would share with the younger girl, her name was Amy. It was two a.m. in the morning, and with a tentative goodnight, Maggie had left Sara to sleep.

Sara kne wit would be the last thing she would do tonight. Nevertheless, she changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed, but kept her bag beside her. She just wanted a bit of comfort, she knew she would get that in the suprisingly soft bed.

She was relieved to know there was a light switch right next to her bed, and when she flicked it on, a small light above her bed flickered on.

Sara allowed her eyes to travel around the bedroom. It was clear it had been designed for a girl, pink coloured the walls, barbies and other girly objects she couldn't identify littered the floor. There was no books. Sara was more than relieved that she had brought her own supply.

Her eyes moved to the bed that was beside her own, maybe two feet or so away from her own bed.

The girl looked smaller than Sara was, she was lying with her back to Sara, but Sara could see long locks of flowing blonde hair that pooled beneath her head. She was snoring softly, it was almost comforting, that she wasn't left in complete silence.

Sara could remember the time when she used to wish she had blonde hair, when she used to look more like the models she would see on the cover of magazines, on television, the girls in her class.

She had eventually come to terms with the fact that she would never look anything like them, and to be honest, she didn't want to be anything like them. She was quite comfortable in her own skin right now. She knew she was extremely mature for her age.

Sara had always believed that people held their own pen, and it was up to them how they wrote their story. She had never thought her mother was capable of doing such a thing. Did that mean she was too? Was she capable of such an extreme violence? Was it something that could be passed down, genetically?

She forced herself to lie down, and turn off the light, making an attempt at closing her eyes. Those thoughts were no good for her, she would only torment herself. She knew rest was important, and it was probably best that she tried to get some.

Moments later, she had been claimed by sleep. She was exhausted, she had not realised just to what extent.

_**xxx**_

A noise coming from outside the door of her new bedroom was what roused the sleeping twelve year-old from her peaceful slumber. It sounded as if someone was scraping against the wooden door. As the brunette sat up, a little disorientated for a moment, the noise disappeared.

Had she imagined it? She rubbed her eyes, allowing them to re-focus in the darkness. Her eyes first landed on the still sleeping figure of her roommate. For a brief moment she envied the fact she was still sleeping. Sara's head snapped to the door as the scraping noise resumed.

Fear struck at her for just a moment, but she didn't hesitate in pulling back the covers of her bed, and slipping out of the warmth and comfort. She padded tentatively, barefoot across the cold floor.

"Sara.."

Was she now imagining that she could hear her name?

"Sara.."

No, she knew she could hear it. She paused for just a moment, before swallowing the rising lump in her throat, making it harder and harder for her to breathe. She closed in the last few steps between her and the wooden door, the scraping was ringing in her ears now.

Her near shaking hand grasped the door knob, and with a deep breath she pulled it open. Her scream seemed to die in her lungs, as arms encircled her, holding her arms tight with hard, compelling fingers.

"Mom, what're you doing here?" Sara gasped, a mixture of shock and fear burning through her veins.

"Sara, darling." Laura Sidle began, " I had to come to you.. I couldn't leave you out here.."

Sara could feel tears burning in her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. "I'm glad.. i don't want to be on my own.."

"I couldn't leave you out here.. Not when you let them take me away. When you stood back and watched as they dragged your mother away from you, to lock her away, and you did nothing!" The older woman screamed at her daughter.

Sara tried to pull away, but it seemed it was to no avail. "You're hurting me." She tried to keep her voice as even as possible. "Please, let go of me." Had her mother always been covered in blood? She seemed to be suddenly drenched in it.

"So you can just turn your back on me, again? No. You're not going awanywhere. I'm going to make you pay for that, you little bitch."

A sudden panting Sara awoke from her nightmare. She sat ramrod straight in the bed, drenched in sweat, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She ran shaking hands through her hair, as her eyes darted around the room.

All was silent. She was okay. She knew her mother was in custody of the police, she wouldn't get out.

The salty taste in her mouth alerted her tot he fact that she was crying. She wiped furiously at her cheeks, not wanting to succumb to them.

A wave of relied washed over her body as she realised that she really was okay, but then she felt like she was drowning in guilt. She had let them take her Mother away. She didn't do anything to stop them.

She failed.

_**xxx**_

**The Next Day**

Grissom was used to working long hours, especially through the night. Finishing his work shift at eight o'clock was like second nature to him. He would have stayed longer, but once again, he had maxed out on overtime this month, and was practically escorted from the lab when his shift was over.

He didn't see the problem in working extra hours. He was more than able to handle it, and if he was able, and able to work well, what was wrong with that?

He would admit, this was a case that he knew he would keep with him, one he may use in years to come, teaching others.

It wasn't as if it was a hard case lacking in evidence. For the courts, it was a slam-dunk. They had the perps fingerprints on the kitchen knife, in her victims blood, she had motive.

It would be an easy day in court for a prosecutor.

It was the people involved, that he could not get off his mind. He could not see the justice, in this. He had read the police reports, the hospital files. He seen the pictures of the bruises, the cuts, the documented broken arms, ribs, all caused by the man who was now viewed as the victim. He had no discrimination in who he picked, each member of the family seemed to get it equally.

When they finally fought back, and got rid of them, it is them who has to suffer. The mother will probably spend the rest of her life in jail, the children have lost their father, and now their mother.

If the police had interjected, and done their job, he would be behind bars, not dead, the family may be having a better life than what they will now.

It really got to him, but he could not get Sara off of his mind. There was something about her, that he found fascinating. For a twelve year-old girl, she had an incredible sense of maturity surrounding her. She noticed more than most children, and paid attention. She was extremely intelligent, he knew that from his first exchange with her. It would be a shame, to see her spend her life in and out of foster homes.

Her brother, James, was currently in PD, after being tracked down by Brass. he was only just eighteen, and there was no way any judge would rule in his favour to have Sara's primary care. She would spend years in a foster home until she was able to move away.

He had made a promise to her the night before, that he would come and see her today. He would generally never make a promise to someone associated with a case, but as he already said, there was something about her. he wanted to see her again today, and see how she was doing.

With a quick trip home, a shower and a bite to eat, he was now sitting outside the address of her temporary home, until something more permanent was found.

It was setting up to be a nice day outside, the sun was already sending warm waves down to meet his skin, not a cloud to be seen.

He knocked sharply on the door, and after greeting the smiling woman, showing her his ID, he was strolling into the back garden towards the brunette girl.

It was only ten o'clock in the morning, yet here she was sitting outside with her head buried in a book, her science book, he noticed. Her hair seemed slightly wet, as if she had just had a shower, but the warmth outside was drying it out.

Hearing him approaching, Sara lifted her head, a ghost of a smile pulling on her lips as she closed over her book, sliding over on the swinging bench she had located herself on earlier this morning.

"I didn't think you would come." She admitted honestly as he sat next to her on the bench. She never expected much from people, a lesson she had learnt early in life. Whenever she got her hopes up, she always had to watch them crash down around her.

There was something in her eyes, that made him wish for a moment that he could read her mind. He had a feeling it wouldn't be the expected trivialities of a near teenage girl. "I never make a promise I won't keep." He said softly, tilting his head slightly to look at her more closely. As only to be expected, she didn't look one hundred percent.

"I've heard that before." Sara muttered, more to herself than to Grissom, as she looked away. She had been promised so much in her life. Promised her Father would never hurt her again, promised she would not be alone, prmoised that the girls at school wouldn't laugh at her. Every single one of them promises had been broken.

"How are you feeling?" Only when the words left his mouth did he realise what a stupid question that was. For an intelligent man, he astounded himself. "I.. Uh.. How did you sleep, was what I meant.." He trailed off, trying his best to smooth over his obvious mistake.

Sara took a deep breath. Was this what she had to look forward to? The looks, the comments. Great. "Yeah, I'm fine. Took a while to get to sleep, but it was fine." Lie after lie. She was not one to opene up to people, it wasn't easy for her. She had never had any conversation with anyone in her family who she was able to speak with openly. She used to be able to with her Mother, but her Father changed her, she would close up and say nothing. Sara now did the same.

She had had the worst night in her life, and it wasn't getting any better. The ten year-old she was sharing the room with, was named Jessica. She wasn't happy to realise that she was now sharing a room with someone else, and with a girl who read books nonetheless. Sara chose to ignore the fact that she kept referring to her as 'gappy'. She was used to it. When she showered, she had the suspisicion that the older boy, Jared, was spying upon her. she shuddered at the thought.

Grissom knew she was lying, but he didn't push it. "Well, I have some good news for you." He hoped. "Your brother is sleeping at the police department. When they picked him up last night, he was a bit ah... Worse for wear. But once he wakes up, he's coming to see you."

That was good news, she would admit. It would be a relief to see her brother again. She wondered how he was taking it. What was he going to do? What were they going to do? Would he step up, and be a big brother to her? She didn't get her hopes up.

"What about my Mom? She's going to jail, isn't she?"

His sparkling blue eyes met brown orbs, and he wanted to tell her no, that there was some justice for her. "I'm sorry Sara, but.. She broke the law.. You know what she did was wrong.."

"If she didn't.. Do what she did.. He would have done it to her.. Or to my brother.. Or to me." Her voice was a whisper as she finished. She was trying now to do what she could for her Mother, to try and get her out of the trouble she was in.

"Look.. Sara.." He paused, takign a breath. "I'll see what I can do, I'll tell the courts, everything you have been through." He would never get involved in a case like this, but this was different. He had to do something for her.

Sara opened her mouth to speak, but the ringing of Grissom's cellphone made her close her mouth. Grissom apologised and flipped it open.

"Grissom." He said softly into the reciever.

"Gil, hey, it's Brass. Sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but I need you to come back to PD. It's important."

Grissom nodded, and sighed softly. "Alright, I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

He closed his cell phone, and looked back to Sara. "I'm sorry Sara, I have to go. Work is quite busy."

Sara nodded, a sad smile playing on her lips. "It's alright, I understand." She didn't want him to go. There was a familiar quality in him, that made her relax, even if their topics of conversation were not the best.

Grissom stood and said a soft goodbye, before turning and walking away.

"Grissom?" Sara called, to get his attention.

He stopped, turning to look at her with an arched eyebrow.

"Will you come back and see me again? With my brother, maybe?" She asked gently, despite her best attempt, the hope in her voice was evident.

Grissom's lips turned up in a smile, and he nodded. "Of course I will, Sara." He said, before turning once more and walking away from the young girl.

It was the first of many promises he would make to her.

It was also the first of many he would break.

_**xxx**_

**A/N: ** So that's ot for chapter two :D Things are about to heat up, so I hope you are all along for the ride for chapter three, which will be up later this week.

Reviews are welcome. Very welcome.

-xx


	3. Chapter 3

**How It All Began: Chapter 3**

**A/N: **So, this is the third attempt at writing this chapter, and I do believe third time is the charm.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, I do really, really appreciate them.

Hope you enjoy!

Oh, also, I'm working on a new fic, one I haven't posted yet, but I need a beta for it, and someone to just talk the idea out with. If anyone's interested, please, let me know, I'd appreciate it greatly (:

-xx

_**xxx**_

She couldn't believe her eyes. She almost refused to believe her eyes.

She knew he was a CSI, a damn good one, but she never expected teaching to come into that equation. Although, she wouldn't say she was suprised, he seemed well educated, in the two times they had met, in the times they had spoken.

They should have seen each other more than once, but he never came back to see her.

_She sat and waited, for hours and hours. She refused to leave the window of her bedroom. It had been what kept her going through out the day. She had been looking forward to Grissom returning all day._

_She didn't usually become so dependant on people, but she had realised that there wasn't that many people left around her, who seemed to care about her at all. He did seem to care, and she found a comfort in that._

_There was something about him, something that made her feel relaxed in a way she didn't with anyone else. She could talk to him in a way that she had never been able to do before. Her parents didn't read, her brother didn't either, and she had no friends. With Grissom, she was able to talk about books she had read, that he had read. He didn't make her talk about anything that she didn't want to talk about, not like anyone else she had been talking too. _

_When James had been dropped off at the house, she had jumped up, excited to see him. He was the only family she had left now. And Grissom had said that he would come to see her with him. He didn't. He had told James to tell Sara that he was very sorry, that he had to work, but if he got a chance, he would come and see her. _

_She didn't hold out much hope from then. She left the window, and eventually, stopped glancing at the window every now and then. _

_She should have guessed that he wouldn't turn up. She shouldn't have expected it at all. People never held the promises they kept to her, she was beginning to get used to it. _

_James had stayed with her that night, they stayed up talking, and eventually she managed to fall asleep, this time not plagued by any nightmares. _

_When she woke up, he was gone. He came back to see her later that day, and the next day. Then there was two days between his visits. Each visit seemed to be longer and longer apart. She didn't hold out much hope for him coming more often either. He had a life, himself. Coming to visit his little nerd sister wasn't something she could see him wanting to do. _

She had made a promise to her twelve year-old self that day, that she would do soemthing to get herself out of the foster care system she was in. It had worked. She worked extremely hard at school, and it paid off. She graduated from high school as valedictorian, and had attained a scholarship to attend Harvard. It was something she had only dreamed of, she couldn't believe she had been accepted to Harvard.

She worked her way through Harvard, studying physics during the day, working as a waitress at night and on the weekends. She vowed she would never spend her life doing this. Once she graduated, she then moved onto study Forensics at Berkley. She wasn't sure what had made up her mind for her, maybe that she had seen so much violence in her life time, she wanted to be able to solve it for some people, bring some justice into the world.

Now, at twenty-two years old, she was in the middle of her first year at Berkley. With her degree in physics, and the fact she was furthering her education, when she applied for the job at San Franciscos Coroner's Office, they seemed to jump at the chance to have her working there. She was only too happy to be there. The pay was enough to keep her going, and that made it so much better.

She had lived with a few friends, but once she started working, she wanted her own place, not one that she was sharing with four others. It seemed she wasn't the only one, so now she shared a small apartment with one of her closest friends, Jennifer, who just so happened to be studying Forensics Law. They made a good team. What helped one, generally helped the other.

Wait until she told Jennifer this. She had given her a brief idea as to why she had decided to go into studying forensics. She said she met a CSI when she was twelve, and he had an impact on her decision.

It was true. She felt almost inspired by him, in the short time that they had spoken. Once she began studying Forensics, she knew it was the right choice, not by him, but for her. She had always loved puzzles, and now she got to combine two of her favourite things together; solving puzzles and science. It was the prefect combination. Not to mention the fact that she would get to help clear the streets of criminals.

Now, she was faced with her beginning reason, standing before her on the podium, delivering today's lecture.

She had always been early for her lectures, wanting to get the best seat, maybe ask the lecturers about any questions she had about extra assignments she had been doing. Today, had just been one amazing start after another. she had gotten in late from work, last night, the morgue had been swamoed, they needed her. She was exhausted, but she needed to get her assignment finished for today, she had the bulk of it done, but she just needed to review it, make sure there was no mistakes. When she finally climbed into bed, she fell straight asleep. Her alarm clock never went off, it was only a grumbling Jennifer that woke her up, in shock that Sara was still in bed.

Jumping from the bed, she quickly pulled on clothes, not even getting a chance to run a brush through her hair, she hurridly scraped it up and pulled it into a ponytail.

Now, she was sitting, ten minutes late for the lecture, panting slightly after running from her apartment, listening to a grumbling stomach protesting at not being fed this morning.

And for the first time in ten years, she was face-to-face with Gil Grissom, her guest lecturer for the next month. Fantastic.

How could she possibly face him? Nobody here knew about her history. He was the only person who would know about that.

That was if he even remembered her. Maybe he wouldn't. It was pretty hopeful. It was ten years ago when she met him. He must have met hundreds of people between now and then. She was sure she looked quite different than her twelve year-old self, so maybe it was worth a shot.

After a few more moments of deliberation, she made up her mind. Once the lecture was over, she would go up to him, ask a few questions, see if he remembered her. If he did, she would ask him not to say anything, to anybody. If he didn't, she would be happy enough to leave it at that.

She had to admit, he was very, very good at what he did. She stole a glance around the room, smiling as she seen how everyone's attention was fixed on their guest speaker. They never found Forensic Anthropology that interesting when Professor Todd was here.

She focoused her eyes back on him, and opened up her notebook, beginning to scrawl down notes as he spoke. She had to keep up.

_**xxx**_

Grissom had always gotten a thrill out of teaching. It gave him the chance to pass on the knowledge and experience he had gained over the years, to eager students. it offered him some relief, that there were still people out there, eager to learn what they could.

It kept him on his toes, the intuitive minds of students could pose many questions to him, that kept him thinking, and kept him learning. It was a good experience for both parties involved.

When he had been offered this chance, he jumped at it. He loved California, and at this time of year, there was always new rollercoasters in town.

He couldn't believe his very first class was over already. This four week programme was going to go faster than he wanted it to. Only minutes ago the bell had rang, symbolizing the end of class. He had thanked his class for their patience, and for listening, bidding them a goodbye until tomorrow. He didn't believe in setting assignments on the first day. They couldn't have possibly learnt enough information from him to do an assignment.

He had turned to the desk on the podium, and began gathering up his notes as the students who filed out from the lecture hall.

"Doctor Grissom? I have a question, on your lecture.. On the metric triats of bones, that you should look out for in osteology.."

He hadn't noticed anyone approaching, but he was more than happy to help anyone who had any questions. He put down his case, turning to face her. For just a moment, he was struck with an unbelievable familiarity. He had seen her somewhere, but he just could not think where.

"Of course, that's what I'm here for." He offered with a soft smile. "But, I have a question first." He continued without waiting for her to agree. "What's your name?" He was good with names, maybe if she put a name to her face, it would trigger his memory.

"Sara... Sara Sidle." She said a little tentatively.

He didn't have to hear anymore. He remembered everything. "Sara Sidle." He said, nodding as he rubbed his fingers together.

"You never came back that day." She said quietly, pursing her lips slightly. She hadn't meant to say that at all, to even address it. The words just seemed to spill from her mouth, like she had no control over what she had to say.

Grissom could only manage to stare at her for a moment. He found he was at a loss for words. What could he say to her? He remembered the twelve year-old Sara Sidle he had visited, left hopefully awaiting another visit. He hadn't realised that she had waited for him. He had told her brother he was working, that he couldn't go. Maybe he forgot to tell her? "I um... Sorry?" He said, looking to her with a small smile.

"It's fine." She said softly. She had let it go many years ago. She didn't hold any grudges. Well, not in this case.

She had grown up. Well, that was no suprise, he had seen her ten years ago. He knew she was intelligent, that she would go far in her life and he had been proved right. He was interested as to how she had gotten here, and what had made her decision to take this career path. He mulled over his thoughts for a moment, his eyes locked with her brown ones.

"I have a suggestion."

"Oh?" She asked, with an arched eyebrow.

"Have dinner with me tonight. Let me make it up to you for not coming to see you, and any questions you have to ask, I'll answer them."

Sara was shocked. She never thought that was his suggestion. Although, she would admit, she was happy that he did. "Alright, deal."

"Great, I'll meet you outside here at seven?"

"Um.. Eight? I finish work at seven, give me a chance to get ready." She flashed him a gap toothed smile.

"Eight, perfect." He agreed, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, you will." She beamed as she began to walk away, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, as she left the room.

He couldn't believe he had just asked his student out to dinner. What had gotten into him? Well, in his defence, he wasn't really her teacher. And, he did know her, so it could just be dinner between two friends catching up. That was all it really was. She fascinated him, he would admit that, and his curiosity wanted to know more about her.

He only had a few more hours to wait.

_**xxx**_

**A/N:** I know, I shouldn't leae y'all hanging like that, but it's just about to get good, and it does work better in the next chapter.

It'll be good though, I promise ;)

I really appreciate reviews, so take thirty seconds to let me know what you thought of the chapter.

-xx


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